


A broken toy

by Fallinginheight, Miss_Catherine



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Banter, Humor, M/M, Out of Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:41:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24544786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallinginheight/pseuds/Fallinginheight, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Catherine/pseuds/Miss_Catherine
Summary: - They have become incredibly boring, - James Moriarty spoke through his nose, collapsing on his personal sniper’s back and tapping out some intricate rhythm on his ribs.Jim's favorite toy has broken. What does he suppose to do?** This fic was published as a book. We presented it to Andrew Scott at Comic-Con Russia 2019.**
Relationships: Sebastian Moran/Jim Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Kudos: 18





	A broken toy

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Сломанная игрушка](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/629101) by Miss_Catherine. 



— They have become incredibly boring, — James Moriarty spoke through his nose, collapsing on his personal sniper’s back and tapping out some intricate rhythm on his ribs.

Moran moved but was bitten in the neck and quieted down again, discontentedly muttering something in the pillow.

— Since John Watson had got married, my favorite toy has ‘broken’, — Jim continued whining. — No, really, Mary has spoiled everything! They don’t care about anything! And, by the way, how dared she shoot at him?

Sebastian growled.

— Don’t be jealous, I’m bored, I want to play, but these idiots do not pay any attention on my little gimmicks! Do I have to go on central television and announce that I’m back? — James exclaimed indignantly. — Though… It’s actually a good idea.

Sniper snorted and thrusted hips, throwing up his lover up as a sign of resentment.

— No, Seb, we have to get rid of her. We are not alone at the feast of life anymore! — there was a suggestion of a childish whim in the voice of the criminal genius which caused the killer to make a gurgling noise resembling laughter.

Some ideas about getting rid of Mary Watson were already ripening in James Moriarty’s head. The fact that John moved back to Baker Street after she had shot at the detective has made the task easier. These two were spoiling all the joy for him: like a couple of idiots, they were beating around the bush, being buried in their own problems so deep that they haven’t noticed a single plan Jim prepared for them. That was painful.

— Get up, Sebby, work awaits us, — James leapt out of bed pushing his personal sniper’s side with his knee causing indignant growl.

***

— No, they are definitely idiots! — Moriarty resented. — I hounded such a glorious character on her, and they!

Sebastian was cleaning his rifle philosophically and grinning at his personal hurricane swinging about his arms. He was completely unaware of what was going on in James’s head, but it did not matter as long as they were together.

— No, just think about it, they’ve saved her! It was such a wonderful plan though! And now John has moved to a hotel, what a goddamn goof. What the hell did he find in her, tell me, Seb? — Jim slumped on Moran's lap who barely managed to remove the weapon from under the skinny ass in an expensive suit.

Reclining in his favorite armchair and looking like the most dangerous killer in the whole Britain, criminal genius folded his arms and started to think intensively.

— Shall we expose her as a cheater?

Moran sniffed and ran his fingers through his lover’s dark hair.

— Maybe, that’s not where we should begin? — Jim continued pondering. — Maybe, we need to bring them together first, and then she’ll disappear?

Already being remorselessly groped, Sebastian practically purred, when the said words burned his neck. The body, that was not getting what it desired for a long time, rebelled and demanded to immediately undress the insolent genius and fuck him here and now, but Jim jumped off and shouted:

\- Come on, Basty, I’ve got a new plan!

The killer’s glance undoubtedly presaged someone’s quick death.

***

— I've never thought Sherlock was so stupid, - looking in the glass of whiskey gloomily, Jim with his second hand was playing with Moran’s gun, which sniper had safely discharged — just in case. — For a week! For the whole week I, the genius of the criminal world, have been trying to bring them together as if I was a matchmaker, but they just have been running away from each other like from a plague! What’s wrong with these two? Even I can see everything! Such overgrown kittens.

Sebastian understood a long time ago that one should better not touch Jim when he is in such state, otherwise one will regret it. Jim will have had his fling, will shoot (in case he finds bullets) and then he will come up with another brilliant plan.

— Shall I pour some Viagra in their water pipes? — James was nagging resentfully; he hated when things didn’t go by plan, and since it usually happened exclusively because of Holmes, it was a tense moment. — Seb, I think, I’ve got an idea. Come on!

One more week and Moran will kill everybody so that he is left in peace.

***

— Sebastian, bring the rifle! — Jim whispered happily as he brought his binoculars closer and stared at two men arguing at the window.

Sebastian was not used to discuss commands of his boss; «bring the rifle» meant «bring the rifle».

— And now shoot. At the wall! No nonsense now, — James was smiling like a child on Christmas day.

Moran exhaled, relaxed, pressed in the butt of the rifle and softly, between two heartbeats, pulled the trigger. Snap, a tinkle of broken window, a hole in the wall, and two men crouched like on command.

— Sit still, Sebby, — Jim said as he noticed the sniper was going to leave. — We got to make sure.

The killer pressed his forehead on the rifle heavily, sighed and was about to reconcile himself to the fact that he inevitably would spend the rest of his life in the state prison. However, the surroundings were still completely silent even ten minutes later — no sirens, no cars, no helicopters flying above them.

Jim squeaked happily and pressed his eyes in the binoculars even harder.

— Well, this John turned out to be not so bad after all! — Moriarty chatted, staring out the window enthusiastically. — Oh, poor jacket, are all of you, ex-soldiers, like that? – the genius snorted looking askew at Moran baring his teeth in a shark-like smile.

Sebastian started to pack the rifle.

— And now we will message missis Watson! — James pulled his phone out of pocket and suddenly felt his shirt being torn off his body and thrown to the other side of the room.

***

— Remind me to talk to this hysterical woman tomorrow, if she does not move somewhere far away herself.

The genius of the criminal world was smiling happily, still looking through the window to not miss any details of the private life of Baker street where two men abandoned themselves to passion without a twinge of conscience, and did not even notice someone’s wife entering the room.

— And we should also send some flowers to missis Hudson, I admire this old woman! It was so forethoughtful of her to have gone to her neighbor leaving the door opened – a miracle! In your view, will they understand who organized it all tomorrow or should we give them a couple of days?

James Moriarty was shining like Christmas lights. Moran slung his rifle on his left shoulder, came up to his lover, whipped the binoculars out of his hands and slung the man on his right shoulder, smirking at the thought that Jim was going to spend at least three days in bed.

— Seeeb…


End file.
